


Sticks and Stones

by Jester_of_Myth



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Good Parent Stoick the Vast, How Do I Tag, Human!Dragons, I Don't Even Know, I Love Stoick the Vast, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Summaries, No Romance, Valka may or may not be in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22315372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jester_of_Myth/pseuds/Jester_of_Myth
Summary: Set during HTTYD 1; very much AU. Drago’s attack came without much warning for Berk. He and his accomplice, the “Red Death,” have completely taken over the island. Drago, with the help of his mind controlled vikings, has forced the adults- including Stoick- into mining for “Dragon-Eye Gems” in the underground tunnels of Dragon Island. The teens and children are left stuck on Berk, under the supervision of Eret (son of Eret), carrying out tasks sent by the Red Death. As far as they know, Hiccup was killed in the invasion. But in reality he was saved.Human!DragonsUgh, I suck at summaries.
Kudos: 10





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, guys. First HTTYD fanfic. Please, enjoy!

Looking back, such grief and destruction wasn’t as sudden as previously thought to be. Hints and whispers had made their way from countless islands and throughout Berk for years, not to mention Stoick’s own traumatic experience with the person at the head of this tragedy. Drago Bludvist, a madman who claimed to be able to control the minds of men- claimed and  _ proved _ , in front of Stoick’s own eyes.

Drago had come during a Meeting of the Chiefs, had asked if they wanted a sure way to rid themselves of anyone who would stand against them. All the chiefs had been skeptical of his ideas, and Stoick had also been in disbelief. Even if such a way existed, what would be the cost? Drago explained that he found a way to control vikings’ minds, that if the chiefs joined him, they could form an unstoppable army. This had earned him laughs from around the room; who could believe such a thing? But any warmth that previously shown on Drago’s ragged face vanished immediately, then he turned, dark cape billowing threateningly behind him, and stormed out the great doors.  _ “Then see how well you will do without me!”  _ He had raged as he left, and crashes sounded from all around them. 

Vikings; vikings with red-lit eyes and slit pupils had had the chiefs surrounded. They held weapons of fire, and were ruthless in their advances. Stoick had only just escaped Drago’s wrath. And not for as long as he’d hoped.

Now, Drago was back, his attack had destroyed just about everything. His tribe, his island, his position…. His son…

Hiccup was lost in the attack on Berk, Stoick would never see his son again. Even if he was still alive, none of the parents knew if they were to ever see their children again either. The children had been separated from them, forced to stay on the demolished Berk, while the adults had been made to sail- like slaves- to an island far from home. They were put to mine; anyone who refused or complained either vanished or were put to death. Now, Stoick also had a theory about that: Drago must have been looking for recruits for his army- and only the strong and stubborn will do; he must have used his..ah,  _ ability.. _ to  _ persuade  _ them to enlist for him. 

The rest of them, the vikings-turned-slaves/miners; they had to work. Throughout the day and night, a meal once for each, and the cycle continues. They grew tired and weary, and a question arose in the passing days. What exactly were they mining for anyway? Stoick once heard a conversation of the guards, heard what the gems were called by them: Dragon Eyes. Unfortunately, that was all Stoick was able to catch before they were out of hearing range.

The once mighty chief sighed in melancholy, reminiscing in a time already passed. Of a better life, even if he took certain things for granted- his son most of all. If  _ only  _ he’d taken greater care of him, tried to understand his boy more. Maybe then the gods wouldn't have taken him away from them, maybe then he’d still be here. Regret and Grief put chains on his heart, remembering all the words he never told his son.  _ I’m proud of you, I love you, son.  _ He’d never get the chance to now. He was a failure of a father.

“You know, workin’ means  _ actually  _ doin’ something, Stoick. Though I guess  _ your  _ lazy bum isn’t used to not bein’ in charge all the time.” A familiar voice cut through Stoick’s thoughts and his mind was brought back to Midgard. He looked over to who spoke; of course, it was Gobber.

Gobber the Belch was Stoick’s best friend and Hiccup’s godfather. He played with Hiccup when he was little, and he took care of him when Stoick couldn’t. Stoick owed him so much… He also happened to be the one who comforts- comforted.. both Haddocks in their time of need, gives advice: both terrible _and_ helpful, and will always be the one to snap Stoick out of his stupor. To give him a much needed smack across the face- damn the consequences- and tell him what he needs to do, what he should be doing. In this case, he was here to do all three. Gobber continued, dismissing any possible responses to his first comment.

“There’s nothing you can do now, but ‘onor ‘im, Stoick. And while you may not have been the best father, you still loved and love ‘im, and he still loved you, too.” Gobber really knew him, didn’t he? “He may be gone, but the question is: what are you gonna do ‘bout it?”

Stoick stared down at the mining axe in his hand.  _ What was he going to do about it?  _ What  _ could  _ he do? He was stuck in an underground maze of mines, and forced to work for his worst enemy. He had fallen, and fallen far… what was there left for him to protect? He stayed silent, which was enough for Gobber to continue.

“You know, Hiccup said something to me when he was younger.. It might help for you to know it. He said,  _ ‘When you feel the lowest you possibly can, you have the potential to soar, _ ” The once-chief blinked, if there were tears in his eyes only he and Gobber knew. “It means there’s always a way out, Stoick. And like Hiccup said, you and I both know there must be a way out of here; you’re lookin’ at a piece of it.”

Gobber put his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, knowing he was finally getting through to Stoick. “Now, I said, what are ye going to do ‘bout it?”

Stoick’s fist clenched; he needed someone to blame, someone who would be completely and utterly responsible for the deaths of his family, for the destruction of his village. For everything that ruined the good in his life. And he knew who- one who really  _ was  _ ultimately responsible over all: and went by the name of Drago Bludvist.

A man who truly deserved this hate- contempt, and not the fear- of all those who know him. And that was part of the problem.

They  _ did  _ fear him as much as hate, and who could fault them for that? For as much as they’d seen, no matter what numbers they could gain, they were outmatched by Drago. Stoick needed to find a way to end this; end Drago’s reign once and for all.

They just need to remember that he is just a man… A man who can control other men. And with a loyal army at his fingertips.

And, far away as Stoick felt from them- from anyone really, even as Gobber stood right next to him- he prayed to the gods that all the children be safe. Or at least unharmed; “safe” seemed to be out of the question for them all at this point.

He prayed for them to live, to stay determined, to keep hope in their hearts. Because eventually, one way or another, Stoick would get out of this place, he will save them and his tribe. If it’s the last thing he’ll do, he vows, he will save them all. A chief protects his own.

* * *

  
  


BACK ON BERK, Eret was walking to the Kill Ring, recent events plaguing his mind, much like Stoick. He trudged through the heavy snow that blanketed Berk’s cold ground. Was it really almost Snoggletog time? He supposed he would have to find something to send to his family… if they were still alive. Drago kept his soldiers in the dark about that, threatened to harm them or worse, a cruel incentive to keep them working for him. Eret, like most good hunters who worked for Drago, was lured and trapped like a dragon. They couldn’t visit, they couldn’t see their family, and they could  _ never  _ stop working, or else. Eret was an honest, good person, but under the influences of the evil around him, his hand was forced; there was nothing he could do. 

Over all, especially at this time, he felt guilty. Guilty for all the lives lost on this beautiful little land, guilty for the lives yet to be lost, inevitably. Drago was ruthless, cruel, and had an icy heart of stone. He felt nothing as he ravaged Berk’s village, uprooted the lives of all the innocent people who once lived here. 

Eret was lucky to be as high on Drago’s ranks as he was. He was in the military, at least. Unfortunately, he wasn’t given any information on Drago’s “great plan”, instead he had to just do as he was told: babysitting a bunch of viking teens and supervise the movement of shipments that were of the “utmost importance.” He was in charge of these shipments, but didn’t actually have to do that much work; the teens did the heavy lifting, it was what they were kept alive for- that, and to mine in the future, if it was still necessary. 

The shipments consisted of Dragon Eye gems and a few dragon root, the teens were to unload the ship’s boxes and place them in the Killing Ring. What either of them was for, Eret didn’t know, but the amount of Dragon Eyes needed were near incalculable. Drago was up to something sinister, and he wasn’t letting anyone of his crew know. They had to something to topple this “king,” fast.

* * *

Astrid- once a warrior, and honestly,  _ still  _ a warrior- stood at the entrance of the Ring, staring solemnly at the sky. Serene shades of blue melted into the vibrant oranges and yellows of sunrise, and though it was a beautiful sight on Berk’s shores, it left a bittersweet taste in Astrid’s mouth.

She’d been awake for about an hour now, long before anyone else had even stirred. She needed to, or others may catch her ever-growing restlessness, nightmares of death and tragedies that almost came true.

Gods, she didn’t even know if her parents were alive.

But at least there was a chance; they were strong, they were  _ Hoffersons,  _ and as that thought concluded, the weight on her back lessened, even if just a little. But she knew she couldn’t account for everyone her assurance of her parent’s lives, just as their parents couldn’t account for theirs. The Chief, above all, had been ripped from all form of familiarity; all was lost to him, so the younger ones thought.

His son was definitely not accounted for, neither the parents nor the children knew the whereabouts of the outcast of the past. “Outcast,” now, meant very little to any of them. There was no room for the childish titles when in the clutches of a powerful enemy. It didn’t matter now, Hiccup was dead, and they had a much greater problem glaring at them straight from Hel.

Drago Bludvist, she seethed, no words could even describe how she thought about that… that utter  _ monster,  _ tearing up the roots of her home. Her sanctuary was gone, and her family was on an entire other island, in who-knows-what condition right now. But he hadn’t stopped there, no, he pushed and pushed- until there was nothing left. What was the point anymore? 

Of course, for the sake of everyone else, she couldn’t think like that. Astrid was a role model, she was a Hofferson, and that meant she couldn’t give up hope; she had to keep fighting. 

There was a noose hanging for all to see. 

And as she finally walked into the confines of the Ring, she made an oath, swearing that she, Astrid Hofferson, will see to it that Drago will be the one hanging.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! For my first HTTYD story, I think I did pretty good! Please, tell me what you think, I’m open to criticism if you noticed anything wrong.  
> Reviews spark motivation!  
> Mydnight


End file.
